Gobsmacked
by LisaDawn75
Summary: Arthur and Sarah have a convenient relationship: he gets in town, he calls, she meets him, and he gets business taken care of. But is this set-up exactly what Sarah wants? And if not, can she keep her desires to herself so she doesn't rock the boat.


**This is a one-shot I wrote after watching **_**The Mechanic**_**. I felt like there was more to the relationship between Arthur and Sarah and wanted to play with that a bit. I took some creative license with her character since it wasn't developed much in the movie. The song lyrics are from **_**Voodoo**_** by Godsmack. I hope you enjoy.**

**Sadly, there is not much fanfic that I can find with Jason Statham's characters. That is such a shame, so I am now on a personal quest to fix that little problem!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Mechanic**_** or Jason Statham. If I did, I would not need to write fanfiction!**

* * *

Sarah looked into the mirror as she applied a light sweep of mascara, breathing deeply to steady her shaking hand. He had called her only an hour ago and asked to get together that evening. She had immediately accepted, agreeing to meet him at the club at seven. She had planned on a rare night alone at home with a good movie and a bottle of wine.

But she could never tell him no.

She slid her black sequined skirt up over her hips and slipped into a pair of high heels. After throwing a long chain over her head, she was set.

Sarah took a cab to the club. She never drove her own car. Why bother when they would just return to her apartment in his truck? She fidgeted the entire way, praying that this was not the last time she would see him. She always got the impression that he might just vanish…disappear without a trace. She did not know much about him, other than he would call her every month or so and arrange to meet up. She had no idea where he went or what he did for a living…

Hell, she didn't even know his name.

But she didn't care. She just felt that if he ever stopped calling her, she would shrivel up. He was the best customer she had. Not only because he paid well and tipped even better, but he enjoyed giving her pleasure. He took the time to make her come. And in her business, that was hard to come by.

She groaned under her breath at the memory she had just invoked. Damn, she hoped he was not in the mood for conversation or dinner. It had been so long, she wanted to just jump him the moment he came in the door. She had even hinted at him just coming straight to her apartment, but he had insisted on meeting her out first. He always wanted to buy her dinner or a drink. He always treated her like a lady.

She slipped some cash to the cabbie and jumped out of the door, almost turning her ankle in her rush to get inside and get the evening started. Sarah stopped and took a deep, steadying breath and smoothed her hair. She did not want him to know the effect he had on her. She could not allow him to gain that type of power over her. By the time he walked through the door, she would be cool and calm…

Sarah walked up to the bartender and ordered her usual – a screwdriver. She needed the vodka to soothe her frayed nerves, so she could play her part when he showed up. She stood in the corner and sipped her drink, gazing around at the crowd. This was her favorite bar to come to. The live music was always good, and the girl who was singing honestly looked as if she had been sent straight from the 1920's.

She claimed a table and finished her drink, the alcohol giving her that liquid courage she needed. She joined the crowd on the dance floor and lost herself in the music while keeping an eye on the door.

When he walked through the door and she made eye contact, her stomach dropped, and her muscles tightened in anticipation. She showed none of her nervousness, however, and smiled at him while pointing out their table.

She continued to dance a few moments before working her way over to him. She smiled and held her hand out. "Come on, dance with me. Please?" she enticed. When he just grinned at her, she turned around and moved her ass in a provocative way that she knew he would appreciate.

Sarah was familiar with the song that was being sung, and she turned around and pointed at him, mouthing the words to let him know she was thinking only of him.

She finished the dance and sat down beside him, smiling. "Hey," she greeted.

He nodded but was silent.

"I'm glad you called," she said.

"I'm glad you were available to see me."

_I'm always available for you,_ she thought but did not voice it. She didn't want him to think her desperate. "I'm glad I was, too," she said instead.

"Let's go get a drink," he suggested and held her chair for her while she stood.

They walked together to the back of the bar where it was a bit quieter. She wondered if he was in the mood to talk tonight. She was getting better at reading his moods, but she still was a novice. Sometimes, when he met up with her, he wanted to talk the entire evening. Then, other times, all he wanted to do was fuck.

"So, how was your day?" she asked blandly.

He chuckled. "Same old, same old. Yours?"

She shrugged. "Nothing exciting. I did get some studying done." She was enrolled at the University of Louisiana as a history major.

He smiled in response and motioned to the bartender for a refill on their drinks.

"Okay. So, tell me your whole life's plan in twenty-five words or less," she asked, trying to milk some information out of him.

"You first."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay… Let's see…"

"That's two," he said.

She turned to face him. "That's not fair," she said lightly.

"That's three more."

She laughed, and he smiled at her.

"Staying in school. Sister…is in rehab. Getting tired of _this_. Wish I knew you better. Yeah. Your turn." She tried to look into his eyes, but he would not hold her gaze for long.

He shook his head. "Huh uh…"

"That's two words," she said quickly. "Twenty-three to go."

He took a deep breath. "Travelling while working with my hands. Started to rethink life. Enjoy your company. The end."

She smiled at him. "You've got three more words."

He hesitated. "Let's…have sex."

She felt her stomach muscles clench at his blatant statement. When he told her he wanted her, she could turn into a puddle of goo on the floor, but she remained upright and tried to hide what his words did to her.

"That's what you want out of life?" she asked, lifting her glass to her lips, trying to keep her hand steady.

He looked at her intensely. "That's what I want out of this night."

_Oh, God…_ She could wait no longer. "Then let's go," she said playfully but felt anything but. She did not want to tease… She did not want to play… She wanted to be consumed by him.

He pushed his chair back, and she did the same. When his fingers brushed against the small of her back as he escorted her out of the door, she shivered. She was still unsure how just a whisper of a touch from him could knock her out of orbit.

She climbed silently into his truck, her mouth dry. She spotted him gazing at her exposed thighs while she clambered onto the seat, and the look of hunger on his face made her feel beautiful. She flashed a smile at him, and he returned the gesture.

Sarah never knew quite how to act on these drives back to her apartment. Most men, she met at a high-class hotel. But not him. Him she took home. She fiddled with the radio and settled on a soft jazz station. Miles Davis's _Spanish Key_ filled the cab of the truck, and she settled back against the seat, allowing the compilation of instruments to wash over her and calm her nerves. "Do you like jazz?" she asked him quietly.

"Yeah, sure."

Sarah sighed. It seemed as if whenever she wanted him to talk with her, he guarded his words like gold, saying very little but just enough.

They were quiet on the short ride back to her neighborhood. He parked on a side street, and they walked the half-block to her apartment. She wanted him to hold her hand or put his arm around her shoulder as they walked together, but he didn't. He never did, and she should know better.

She felt tears sting behind her eyelids and gave herself a mental pep talk. _He's not rejecting you… You know this is just how he is, and you're not going to change him. He's not your boyfriend, Sarah. _She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye and knew that, despite the tears she would shed after he was gone, she would never be able to stop seeing him on her own accord. She figured that one day, he just wouldn't call anymore.

The thought terrified her.

She took a deep breath, so her hand would be steady as she unlocked her door. She tossed her purse on a table in the foyer and locked the door behind them.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said lightly, hoping he didn't hear the slight quaver in her voice. When they were in her small apartment, she almost felt overwhelmed by him. He had a powerful presence that radiated from him, regardless of where they were. She instinctively knew that he could be dangerous… But she didn't care. She trusted him.

"Thanks," he replied, same as always.

"You want a drink?" she offered, slipping out of her shoes.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and slowly shook his head. "Nope. All I want is you."

Her stomach muscles clenched in response. "Well, I'm all yours," she said huskily.

He stepped up to her and threaded the fingers of his right hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head. He brought her face up to his, and he hesitated only momentarily before pressing his lips to hers.

She sighed in response and moved her lips against his, heady on his taste and scent.

He began walking her toward her bedroom, and she did not need to be persuaded. She had been longing for this moment, and even though she was technically working, she was determined to squeeze every iota of pleasure out of this night that she could.

Sarah stepped back and pushed him so that he sat down on the edge of the bed. She cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. He always paid well, and she always wanted him to feel as if he got his money's worth. She pushed a button on the small stereo, and the rough voice of Sully Erna came through the speakers, surrounding them.

_I'm not the one who's so far away_

_When I feel the snakebite enter my veins_

_Never did I want to be here again_

_And I don't remember why I came…_

When the drums began pounding, she closed her eyes and began to undulate her hips, her hands running through her long hair then letting it spill down her back. She knew that he enjoyed looking at her body, and she intended to do whatever she could to keep him coming back for more.

Sarah opened her eyes and saw the raw hunger on his face. _Good_, she thought and smiled at him as she slid her top over her head, teasing him with the sight of her flesh and then tossing it behind her. She turned around and pushed her skirt down past her hips, the material pooling at her feet. She continued to move sensuously to the music, the pounding tribal drums beating in rhythm with her heartbeat.

_Candles raise my desire_

_Why I'm so far away_

_No more meaning to my life_

_No more reason to stay_

_Freezing feeling_

_Breathe in, breathe in_

_I'm coming back again…_

She turned slowly, continuing to move to the music, feeling the driving beat. She gazed at him perched on the end of her bed, slightly breathless at the look he was giving her. She knew how the singer felt. If he ever left, she didn't know what meaning she would find in her life again. And she hated to feel that way…to be so dependent on someone else. She never had been before.

_Hazing clouds rain on my head_

_Empty thoughts fill my ears_

_Find my shade by the moonlight_

_Why my thoughts aren't so clear_

_Demons dreaming_

_Breathe in, breathe in_

_I'm coming back again…_

She slipped her arms behind her back and quickly unfastened the lacy bra she had on, twirling it over her head playfully. He smiled widely and laughed, adjusting himself on the bed slightly. She could see his erection beginning to bulge in the front of his pants, and a feeling of empowerment swept through her. He felt that way for _her_… _Her_ body, _her_ actions aroused him…

_I'm not the one who's so far away_

_When I feel the snakebite enter my veins_

_Never did I want to be here again_

_And I don't remember why I came_

_Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo…_

She continued to move her body to the beat of the music, the drums continuing to call to something deep within her…something dark and primal. Tonight, she wanted to fuck. She wanted him to fuck her…hard. Maybe the romance could come later, if he stuck around, but at that moment, all she wanted was for him to fill her body. She had no chance of resisting the spell he cast over her…his own voodoo magic…

_So far away_

_I'm not the one who's so far away_

_I'm not the one who's so far away_

_I'm not the one who's so far away_

_I'm not the one who's so far away…_

But she usually felt far away from him, as if he never would let her get close enough to really know him. He was so far away…

Sarah slipped her matching lace panties down her legs and flipped them up with her toes. She smiled as she shot them into his face like a slingshot. He laughed in return and lifted his hand, crooking his finger at her.

"Come here," he said, his voice low.

Desire shuddered through her, and she went to him willingly and eagerly. "You beckoned?" she asked playfully.

He stared at her for a moment, and then ran his hands down her sides and over her hips. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.

She swallowed as her mouth had gone dry at his statement. "So are you," she whispered, then felt silly at her words. But he was beautiful, the same way a lethal tiger was beautiful.

He smiled wryly, and then pulled her face down to his, pressing his lips against hers and licking at her lips, which she opened willingly.

Sarah straddled him on the bed, pushing him back slightly. She began to rock against his groin, the hardness there held at bay only by his clothes. Well, she could fix that easily enough. She sat back slightly and began unbuttoning his pants, her movements almost feverish in her hurry to bare all of him to her exploration.

He laughed lightly and helped her by raising his hips up, so she could pull his pants and boxers down his legs. He pulled his shirt up over his head swiftly, tossing it carelessly behind him. Now that they were skin to skin, he didn't seem in the mood to play. _Thank God,_ she thought, wanting him to take her to the pinnacle as only he could.

She slid her body down his, her lips trailing light kisses over his neck and chest. God, he was a spectacular specimen, all muscle and hardness. There was nothing soft about him, and the thought of what he was probably capable of sent a buzzing excitement through her limbs.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her back up and over so that he was pressed against her back. When his calloused fingers enclosed her breast, she groaned loudly. She hooked her leg over his and tried to move her body so that he would slide against her most secret part.

Their mating was rough and primitive, and it left her breathless as she looked down on his sweat-streaked face while she was on top of him. His expression was set in a look of concentration, and he placed a hand on her ass to help with her rhythm.

Finally, he rolled her over and thrust into her. He knew exactly what pace and intensity she needed, and he never failed her. She felt her muscles tightening in all the right places, and with one final thrust, she spun off into oblivion, watching supernovas behind her eyelids.

After what seemed like hours, but what she knew to be a minute or so, she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly stroking his shoulder. With a sigh, he flopped over onto his back and let out a deep breath. She panted a few more times before getting her breathing to slow down.

"Wow," she said, her breathing still ragged.

He smirked at her. "Not bad."

She rolled her eyes. She knew that he had enjoyed their time as much as she had. She didn't respond, however, and just snuggled up to his side. He put his arm around her and turned the television on, flipping to some movie that she had seen before but couldn't remember the title.

To her, in that moment, it seemed as if they were a couple, enjoying the afterglow of making passionate love. His breathing was slow and steady and lulled her into a relaxed mood. She absentmindedly stroked his arm behind her and stared at the flickering images on the screen. After a half hour, she turned to look at him.

"You hungry?" she asked. She had been too nervous to eat before she had left home and had only had alcohol since. Her stomach growled at that moment.

He looked down at her. "Sure."

"Okay," she said and tossed the cover back. She got out of bed and walked out of the room naked, giving him a view of her rounded bottom. She slipped into a pair of panties fresh in the laundry basket and put on a knitted cardigan. She was at the kitchen counter, making a cup of tea, when he walked into the room. She noticed with disappointment that he was fully dressed.

"I gotta go," he said, his face twisted to make it appear he was disappointed. She wanted to believe that, anyway.

"Okay," she said quickly, knowing she had no attachment to him…no right to ask him to stay.

He walked to the foyer and stopped to set a stack of money on the table. She leaned up against the door and spoke up. She could take the suspense no more.

"Hey, you ever gonna tell me your name?"

He hesitated a moment. "Arthur."

She laughed. "Nice try, but you're no Arthur. More like a David…or a Brad. Yeah. See ya, Brad," she said, a playful edge to her voice as a way to hide her disappointment that he was leaving.

Arthur grinned up at her, and then walked out the door, shutting it behind him. She locked the door behind him and picked up the cash. Fifteen hundred dollars, all in one hundred dollar bills. She sighed and tucked the money into her purse. She would need to go by the bank in the morning.

Sarah took her cup of tea and wandered back into her bedroom. The tousled sheets still smelled like him…smelled like sex. She turned the lamp off and collapsed onto the bed, burying her head into his pillow and inhaling his scent. She allowed the tears to fall freely.

He wasn't hers, and she had no claim to him, but for one small evening, she had pretended he belonged to her.


End file.
